


A Worthy Opponent

by bookxish



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, i love pirate parents ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookxish/pseuds/bookxish
Summary: "She cut my eye from my head and I dropped to one knee on the spot!"I love pirate mom and dadEdited 6/30/2020
Relationships: Bill Seacaster/Hallariel Seacaster
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	A Worthy Opponent

Hallariel had done everything short of murder to get herself assigned on the envoy ship--and it had come very, very close.

In the past, she hadn’t particularly bothered herself with the goings on of the Court of Stars, Kei Lumennra being generally removed from politics as a sanctuary. But in brokering peace with Solace, she heard tell of a gift that was to be brought in good will, as well as an envoy to establish a permanent teleportation agreement. Representatives of Fallinel appointed by the Court would be sailing for Solace. 

Her father hadn’t understood why she had wanted to be a part of the mission. 

“My dearest Hallariel,” He had said, tongue rolling off the syllables in her name. “We have grapes, and dance, and the song of the trees. What more could you possibly want?” 

Vengeance. Recognition. Adventure. Many things came to her mind that she knew her father would not sympathize with her on. 

Hallariel had love for her home, and for her father most of all. But in the years since her mother had died, she had never once been able to rid her mind of the fire and the blood that had ripped through their forest, their home. The feeling of utter helplessness she felt watching her father wielding his blade to protect them alone. 

It hadn’t been enough. 

Hallariel had decided in the cloud of grief and fear that should become enough. For her family, for her home, and for herself. 

It had taken a few years of begging to get her father to train her to fence. He had made her her foil--a light and quick weapon that had struck truly her heart the moment she had picked it up. From that moment on, Hallariel had experienced a sense of purpose and love that she never felt in all of her years in the forest. She also witnessed a change in her father that she had never seen. He seemed to transform in front of her from the calm, contemplative man she had known into someone solemn and severe. They trained day and night, til her palms were covered in blisters and her legs quivered with exhaustion, but she wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t dream of it. The stronger and faster and more deadly she became, the more power she craved. 

Then the peace treaty broke between Fallinel and Solace, and the forest grew quiet, and still, and Hallariel grew restless. 

Standing on the bow of the ship, among the bustle of the docks she felt a strange peace. A conviction that there, on the ocean stretching before her lay her destiny. And this time, she would be ready to meet it. 

________

There were few things-- other than treasure, brawls, and the tender touch of a lover -- that Bill Seacaster loved more than fucking with high elves. Partially because it was just truly so easy. He was not a magic man. He had picked up special trinkets during his time as a ship’s boy on the Siren (not particularly by honest means, but back then he’d considered himself a ‘pirate-in-training’ so it was easy enough to justify.), and had been able to wield them just fine. But there was nothing that quite sated him like a cold, hard, unthinking blade in his hand. It was how he’d won his ship, his glorious Hangman, how he’d made his name as one of the fiercest pirates on the ocean, and by all the stars across the skies, it would be the only way he would depart this waking world. 

He will admit that seeing a ship flying the flags of Fallinel had initially caught him off guard. With all their fancy jiggery-pokery around teleportation, the high elves and the high seas shared an association only in title. Which had to mean there was something very big and important -- and hopefully very, very shiny -- on board. And knowing the arrogance of the high elves, there wouldn’t be a single fighter on ship that could match with even his deck swabber -- and he was missing 3 limbs, but he was certainly deadly with that mop when he desired it. 

“Alright, you scurvy pigeons!” He roared as he lowered the glass, jumping easily from the rigging and landing with a _thud!_ on the deck, tossing the glass to Cathilda and leaning out to survey the spec moving closer to them with his own two eyes, grinning like the devil himself.

“What say ye, we catch ourselves a whale!” 

________ 

It was late at night when they heard the thunder of the first cannon ricochet off the ship’s shield. Suddenly, the sleeping ship was illuminated with torches as wizards and sorcerers ran up to the deck to see who was challenging them. Hallariel hadn’t bothered to change out of her sleeping clothes, running onto the deck with her saber in her hand, hair tossing in the sea breeze as she saw it. 

The deck was awash with an orange glow from a larger ship than she'd ever seen, with red sails. Hallariel saw the canon-fire hit the shield, two rounds this time, _crack crack!_ as spider web fissures appeared in their defense. 

_Pirates. They’re pirates._ The thought made her mouth tick up slightly.

Destiny, it seemed, had found her. 

________ 

By nightfall, the Hangman, as quiet as a ghost, had slid beside the sleeping ship of the elves. They’d charted a wide course around, rolling up the flag to avoid suspicion should they be spotted. Bill watched hungrily as each inch was devoured between them, gripping the helm tighter as he slid into firing range. 

“Shall we, sir?” Cathilda’s voice was at his side, a warm smile on her mouth, but her eyes were cold and hard. 

Bill handed over the wheel with a silent grin, standing at the helm of the ship, and with a single below of “FIRE!” the night was alive. 

He had expected the boat to be protected, so when the first round of cannon fire hit the shield, he laughed, taking the steps down from the helm two at a time. 

“When that shield shatters, I want all’o ya ready to board! Let’s give the court o’ stars a welcome to the big blue!” He laughed as he unsheathed the sword of the Seacaster and stuck it between his teeth as he set to climb the rigging, the rest of his crew that wasn’t manning the canons following suit as they headed from the boarding ropes along the top sail. 

From above, Bill could see all of their magic wielders in various states of undress still stumbling from sleeping quarters. _My good friend, the element of surprise_ he thought with a chuckle as he felt the boat shutter with another round of fire. He could hear the shield begin to crack and splinter as they reached the top of the rigging, his men readying themselves to swing down and carry out his word. 

“Take what you like, and lay the rest to Davey Jones!” He boomed with the next round of fire, the shield shattering, and the pirates descending onto the ship that waited below. 

________ 

The deck erupted as the shield broke. Fire, smoke, and pirates seemed to pour from the very sky onto the deck. The glint of torch light off swords caught Hallariel’s eye and beckoned her into the fray, feeling herself running into the fray with a growing grin. 

The delegates appointed by the Court were masterful spell casters, but that didn’t matter in the seemingly unending tide of pirates that lay siege upon them. She had just noticed that the deck had become sticky and warm under her feet when a flash of silver from the corner of her eye sent her blade up to protect her.

An ancient instinct awoke insider her, and she found herself cutting through pirates like butter. She couldn’t stop herself from grinning as she parried and defended, slashed and drew blood for the first, second, fifth time, unable to keep track as her hands grew sticky and her blade flashed red. One thought rang in her mind; _She would not be underestimated._

She heard a devilish laugh boom behind her, and turned with her weapon raised to see a dirty looking man cleave the arm from the body of an elven wizard, screaming as he hit the deck maimed. 

“Well, I’ll be damned! It seems there’s some fight’n Fallinel after all!” He boomed, and his eyes burned her to her core as he walked toward her. His clothes were smoking from some explosion, and he reeked of blood and gunpowder. She could see death and greed and wonder and challenge in his eyes. It drove her heartbeat so wild she was almost certain it would bust through her chest. 

_She would not be underestimated._

“I would watch your words before I take your tongue, pirate.” She replied steadily, smiling like every bit of the high lady she was, despite being covered head to foot in viscera. 

“Bill Seacaster.” He said by way of introduction, grinning like a rabid dog. Their swords met with a _clang!_ their eyes burning into each other's from inches away now. 

“Might I know who I have the absolute pleasure'a duelin'?”

There was no sarcasm or cruelty in his voice -- he was genuinely giddy to find a challenge. She felt her smile grow wider, meaner. 

“Hallariel.”

“Well, darlin’ Hallariel. I’d love to see ya try.” He growled, and their blades began to dance.

_______ 

Bill was a very hard man to surprise. Part and parcel of being a pirate, and being the cause of several thousand surprise ambushes himself. But this girl--this woman, tall and fine of face, ethereal in the way high elves are, covered in blood in her night clothes and wielding a blade like an extension of herself had surprised him. He sensed in her a challenge, a hunger to prove herself. He was more than happy to test her. 

Their blades clashed, even as the fighting around them grew quieter. Neither seemed to notice, their gazes only fixed on each other. 

He was not as dirty of a fighter as Hallariel would’ve taken him to be. There was a certain elegance to the way he fought that lent itself to years of practice. He was strong, and leaned into offense, striking often and hard, leaving her to defensive maneuvers. He was an unyielding opponent, but it didn’t take long for her to realize two very important truths. 

She was faster than him, and he wanted her to win. 

He wasn’t holding back, but she saw in the toothy grin that hadn’t once left his face that he had won thousands of battles--losing was a much rarer treat. 

And the Lomenelda’s were nothing if not obliging. 

She grinned wickedly, and Bill returned it with a bellowing laugh that was cut off by a gasp as she struck like a cobra. Abandoning her defense, she felt his blade slash across her chest falteringly, opening the front of her nightgown, and telling her she had hit her mark. 

“Not your tongue,” She panted as his world spun into blood, stars and blackness, a bloody eye on the tip of her blade. 

“But I suppose your eye will do.” She said, tossing it to his feet. 

The Hangman crew erupted into cheers as the sword of the Seacaster fell to the deck, and Bill dropped to his knee. 

And the story keeps getting better...


End file.
